I noticed my coworker’s shoes were made out of fabric printed with cartoon-style dogs. “Cute shoes!” I commented. Her response was, “If I have to wear something, I’m gonna make it fun.” (I later learned she does not like the feeling of her feet being encased and restricted.)
I like the philosophy of her quote, expanded to include anything in life: “If I’m gonna do something, I’m gonna make it fun.” Or simply, “Make it fun!” I think a little lightheartedness exponentially elevates the soul.
The PBS station in Chicago (the area I’m from) used to air Championship Ballroom Dancing, an annual competition. Athletes typically sported risque, rhinestone-covered costumes and fake eyelashes. One year, host Ron Montez told viewers that there’s a saying in the ballroom dance world: “If you’ve got it, flaunt it; if you don’t, do it anyway.”
I thought that was a great all-around philosophy. Really, what choice do you have? Feel ashamed, turn into a wallflower, and have a miserable time, or go out there and strut your stuff! What’s better (and more attractive) than being fully alive?
Earlier, I detailed why I’m not a huge fan of swear words [here]. In fairness, I do think there’s a time and place for vulgar language. Here are some situations where swearing seems appropriate:
-when you’re writing dialog for a character and you want to immediately convey a hardened, street-wise tough guy. A lexicon drenched with profanity will convey that stereotype.
-to exaggerate, for comedy. I think this technique is most effective when used sparingly. Decades ago, my brother’s friend made a prank phone call. It was about 11 o’clock on a weeknight in a small town. He dialed a random number, and a woman sleepily answered, “…hhullo?” “Jeanie!!!” the prankster yelled enthusiastically. “I just had to call and tell you! I wrote this new song and it f—ing RULES!!! It goes like this-” then he started singing in a death metal voice, but couldn’t help laughing, so he hung up. The key sentence (“I wrote this new song…”) without the swear word doesn’t have the same impact.
-when quoting someone. Wording can reveal a person’s attitude. I admit that swearing can add color and a je ne sais quoi to the story. While talking about a neighbor’s volunteer work, my dad set the scene with, “Let’s pretend she’s been doing this s— for ten years.”
-when people aren’t taking you seriously. In the previous post, I suggested that those who hear swearing all the time may become immune to it, but I might be wrong. I’ve been in situations where appeals to logic and sympathy went ignored, and I resorted to swearing. I honestly don’t remember if that got through or not, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Three years ago, I was exploring Charleston, WV. I stopped in a few downtown shops, and heard shop employees telling customers at checkout counters that credit card machines were down. Sounded like it was a widespread issue. I walked to an Indian restaurant, Sitar of India, unsure if they’d be open due to the circumstances. Not only were they serving, but they persuaded customers in, assuring us not to worry about payment. “You can pay next time.” Restaurant employees did not seem concerned about being compensated. Rather, they seemed to make it their mission to take care of every person who ventured into their vicinity and treat them to the best cuisine and best service possible, especially since there was a citywide complication. They were going to be hope in the bottom of Pandora’s box. [I had some cash with me, and I wanted to make sure I paid them, since I didn’t know if I’d ever be back in the area. They rounded the price of the meal down, cutting off the change and tax.] The place seemed to buzz with a party atmosphere, and I’m sure the attitude of service with which the restaurant employees handled the situation sparked the celebratory mood. What a wonderful example of how to treat our fellow humans. I felt honored to witness it.
For a while, when I was a teenager, I incorporated a lot of swearing into my speech because that’s how people around me talked. I didn’t stick with it because, beyond the need to censor at work for professionalism, I didn’t love using swear words. Here’s why:
Language packed with swear words makes boring speech. Sentences become Mad Libs where every blank is filled in with the same word, or words repeated from a very limited list. “This f—in’ guy f—ed with my f—in’ s—.” [For the sake of fairness, I’ll add that any speech pattern that sticks to set phrases, terms, and reactions (“How are you?” “Good. How are you?” “Cool!” “That sucks.”) is also boring.] Choosing more specific terms adds variety and flair to sentences.
Since swear words can substitute for practically any other word, speech loaded with profanity lacks clarity. It can get to the point where the listener may not know what the speaker is saying, even if they think they understand. In the above example, “This f—in’ guy f—ed with my f—in’ s—,” was the speaker simply stating that an acquaintance had looked through his private belongings, or was it deeper than that, an admission that the violation left his psyche emotionally vulnerable? With so many generalities, it’s hard to know. Specific words are clearer in meaning. Likewise, if someone watches a movie and declares, “It sucked,” that doesn’t give much information. Specifics here would be helpful because people don’t all have the same taste.
Littering sentences with non-essential words creates clutter that your listener or reader has to sift through. It dilutes your message. Which sentence is immediately easier to grasp?
Sentence 1: It’s f—in’ time to feed the godda– dog.
Sentence 2: It’s time to feed the dog.
If you want people to understand your message, make it as easy for them as possible. [To be fair, there are plenty of “clean” words that create clutter, and I’m guilty of using them: like, just, sort of, sometimes, or whatever, I guess, almost, or something, kind of, really, very, maybe, and many more.]
Using family-friendly language can be more effective in emotional situations. Hot tempers seem to pair with crass language in movies and in real life. However, I’m skeptical of the effectiveness of that speech. Imagine a scene where a criminal is hiding and won’t come into the light. If their nemesis yelled out something like, “Come out, you f—ing son of a b—-!”, I have to wonder if that would even phase a tough guy who uses and hears that type of language every day. What if their nemesis yelled out, “YOOOOU COWAAAAARD!” I think the more specific term might hit a nerve.
Incessant cussing seems to accompany A Bad Attitude, a.k.a. pessimism, negativity. Which one is the chicken, and which is the egg? I don’t know, but I think pessimism is draining, which is why, if you’re in a foul mood, I think it’s worth a try to polish your language and see if your mood improves. It’s hard to stay angry when using terms like “horse feathers” and “fiddlesticks.”
Some people can’t handle hearing swear words. I know someone like this. If you throw the F-word into a sentence, it’s like their brain gets scrambled- Does Not Compute!, a shield goes up, and they don’t hear anything you say after that. I’ve seen firsthand how using swear words cuts off part of the audience. As a writer, if I want my work to reach the widest possible audience, it needs to be accessible. If swearing doesn’t seem necessary, I avoid it.
At the beginning of the year, I started an online Adventure Club with friends, family, and some of their friends who I didn’t know. It began as a way to have fun, try new things, and keep in touch before people had been vaccinated for the coronavirus.
Each week, I would send out an email with an adventure idea, such as “look for wildlife,” “listen to new music,” or “shop at an ethnic market.” Then, members would email the rest of the group to share what they’d done. [I ran the club for six months.]
One week in June, the suggestion was to do something on, in, or by water.
Normally, I’d look up the weather at the beginning of the week and plan what days to go on adventures, but I didn’t do it that week. I had a few ideas for destinations (to a lake, a waterfall, or a river), and I figured I’d go Friday or Saturday. When I finally did check the weather late in the week, I saw that rain and flash floods were predicted for Friday and Saturday. The predictions came true.
At first, I was bummed that my plans had been spoiled the weather. Then I realized that what was ruining my plans was rain, which is water, which was the theme for the adventure that week. I thought about a story I’d read in one of self-help author SARK’s books. If I remember correctly, she booked a beach vacation, got to the hotel, and it started pouring rain. Instead of pouting, she put on her swimsuit and a pair of shorts and took a walk in the rain.
That sounded even more adventurous than what I had planned, since it was out of the ordinary. When the next downpour came, I was ready, in shorts, flip flops, and a rash guard. Water ran down the roads so fast and in such a quantity that I felt like I was at a water park! I waded through the streets of my apartment complex, sometimes ankle deep in water, kicking and splashing. The best part was being completely calm in a situation that I’d probably feel apprehensive about under normal circumstances, if I were trying to stay dry.
When I was almost back to my apartment, I passed a young couple with a small child walking in their swimsuits, too! How fun to see some other people out, enjoying the situation. I was hoping we would start a trend. If nothing else, maybe the idea got planted in some imaginations, and maybe someone who saw us will try rainwalking during another storm.
This story serves as an example of a positive twist on the proverb about best-laid plans. The day didn’t go as I’d originally planned, but my water activity ended up being more creative, spontaneous, and fun than anything I’d thought of. I went with the flow, so to speak, and worked with what showed up that day, instead of fighting against it.
I started out wearing pants and a shirt every day to my old office job. Then, for about a year, I wore only dresses. I developed a reputation. People I’d worked with for several years made comments like, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in slacks.” Of course, I knew they had- but they didn’t remember. Then I phased out dresses and switched back to wearing pants. A while later, a long-time coworker commented that she couldn’t imagine me in a dress, since I “never” wore them.
What I learned from that experience is that, if you’re consistent, you can change your reputation. I know that the outfits I wore don’t exactly compare to shady behaviors like lying, stealing from people, or taking advantage of them. My clothes probably didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings or make them angry. (I hope not!)
But, for anyone out there who is trying to turn their life around, I’m inclined to reassure you that change is possible. People might even be inspired to forget the past.
Periodically, I get mail addressed to other people at an apartment number that doesn’t exist within my apartment complex. The other day, after finding seven of these letters in my mailbox, I started feeling a little angry that the post office shoves this mail onto me, and then it becomes my responsibility to do something with it. I wrote a note to the postal carrier, shoved it in the outgoing mail, then walked the letters to the leasing office so they could get passed on to the correct tenants.
Instead of following the sidewalks back to my apartment, I cut across the lawn and took a more scenic stroll. Next to the apartments is a church, and next to that is a plot of land with nothing built on it. I spent a few minutes exploring and discovered a couple small piles of dried cement, a pile of rocks, a weathered log, and some deep ruts formed by tire tracks, now overgrown with weeds. A spring azure fluttered across my path. Bees curlicued through a tangle of Queen Anne’s lace, clover, crown vetch, and scrubby trees. The searing peal of locusts crescendoed in a soundtrack for the baking sun.
A smattering of red dots caught my eye, and I moved closer, interested to identify a new plant in this mountainous region whose flora is still unfamiliar to me. The red spots turned out to be unripened blackberries. Luckily, they clung next to gleaming dark purple ones. What is more summery than feasting on berries right off the bush? They tasted tart and bitter, with no hint of sweetness, but wild and real. What is more satisfying than authenticity?
I’ve lived here for two and a half summers, and this is the first time I’ve ever noticed blackberry canes nearby. If I hadn’t received those wrongly addressed letters, I doubt I would have found those berry bushes. What started out as a resentful chore turned into the highlight of my day! The lesson I learned is to respect even the irritants in your life because you don’t know what pearl may form around them.
Here’s another idea for anyone interested in family history: field trip!
In May, I visited my family in Illinois. My dad showed me some of his keepsakes: the stamp collection he started as a kid, arrowheads collected by his grandpa (who was a farmer and found them as he plowed the field), the watch his parents gave him as a high school graduation present, drawings made by his grandfather (when his grandfather was 10). Then there’s the ring that used to be his uncle’s. My dad doesn’t wear jewelry and rarely dresses up, so it always cracks me up when he models the ring. It’s so out of character.
The town my dad grew up in (that I was also born in) is about a 35-minute drive from where he currently lives. He took my brother and I on a tour of houses he used to live in, places he went to school, parks he played at, where he worked in summers during college, where my grandma worked before she had kids.
If you get a chance to go on- or lead- a guided tour like this, I recommend it. Even though the area looked different than it did when he was a kid, seeing the places my dad inhabited gave me a greater understanding of what life may have been like for his family than I had from just hearing stories about it.
As a kid, one of the places my dad lived was near an A&W restaurant with a gravel parking lot- the kind of restaurant where you park your car and the waitstaff comes to your car to take your order and deliver your food. He used to go there when the restaurant was closed and look for coins on the ground. Then he’d take his findings to a mom-and-pop store a block from there and buy bubblegum.
Sitting in the car outside of one of the houses, my dad described how he kept rabbits in a hutch behind the garage. That’s the first time I remember hearing about him having pet rabbits. These stories seem to have come up only because we drove past the old house and the lot where A&W used to be.
We saw the field of corn where my great-grandma used to gather young ears of field corn [grown to feed livestock] and boil them for her family for dinner. When I first heard the story, I wondered if she had to slink to the field after dark so she wasn’t seen by the farmer or passing cars. After seeing the area, I can tell that wasn’t necessary. Her house was almost the last house on a dead end street, just one lot away from a huge cornfield, no farmhouse in sight.
New versions of old stories play like movies in my head, apparitions at dusk replaced by brazen sunlight.
Some characters in movies and books bore their relatives by repeating family stories to the point where other characters roll their eyes and finish the sentences themselves. Those annoyed relatives don’t know how lucky they are. When my brother and I were teenagers, we had to ask our parents how they met because they had never mentioned it. I have a feeling this is typical of the times. Hopefully the quarantine acted a catalyst to get families talking to each other more.
In my last post [here], I talked about looking through heirlooms and photos to find out more about your ancestors. But plenty of family stories have no keepsakes attached to them.
Lately, I’ve been interviewing family members and writing down some of their history, partly for posterity and partly just to know them better. I recently finished typing a collection of stories from my dad’s childhood, his college years, his time in the army, and anecdotes from his workplace. In retrospect, I probably should have recorded the stories on video or audio for a richer experience. But one benefit of writing is that, as story fragments are added to over time, I’m able to present fuller stories on paper.
I would recommend asking your relatives about their lives. Especially if you are in a younger generation, talk to people while you still have the opportunity. Ask them about themselves and about older generations, since they may be the last link to those who have passed on.
I also recommend talking about your life, especially if you are in an older generation. Talk even if no one asks, even if you think you have nothing worthwhile to say, even if you assume no one would care to hear about your time working as a cashier in a hardware store. It matters.
Another option is to write your story yourself. If you do this, I would share it with your families now. That way, you can answer questions and clear up any confusion. Also, knowing more of your history and more about you can promote understanding, empathy, and respect.
Pick a person. What can you find out about their family, friends, hobbies, jobs, vacations, and their favorite things (book genres, music, food, holidays, movies, sports, etc.)? What challenges did they face? What have they overcome in their lifetime? What lessons did they learn? What mistakes did they make? What do they wish they’d done differently? What goals did they have? Did their goals change over time? What did they accomplish?
I’m interested in not just what people did, but why. Why did they choose that job? Were they attracted to that line of work? Were they following in another relative’s footsteps? Was the job close to where they lived? Did it offer the best pay? Did they know the manager? Their reasoning can give insight into their personality. Even learning why someone likes to watch specific TV shows can be enlightening.
Find out what’s cool about your relatives! What makes them unique? What’s memorable about their behavior or character? The last three generations of women on my mother’s side have been a Charleston dance champion, a candidate for public office, and the first woman hired as an Engineering Technician by the Illinois Highway Department.
I think the best stories showcase a relative’s personality, and often have nothing to do with facts that can be verified by records. It’s a catchphrase or habit or attitude. If they work the line “Here’s the kicker” into every story, remember that. Write it down. That’s the kind of stuff you won’t want to forget.